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“Good little slut.” He growls and proceeds to shove his cock all the way. It almost makes me choke, but I manage to endureit a few more times before he mutters something incoherent in what I assume is Russian before he finally comes.
I should feel relief, but it’s rather the opposite.
Dread. Shame. Disappointment?
I’m trying to ignore the waves of emotional torment that hit me while I endure the next bit of torture, which is taking in every shot of his semen as it shoots down my throat and fills my mouth.
The tangy saltiness only makes me feel sick to my stomach. It also makes me realize how I still haven’t eaten today, which is honestly laughable at this point because I’d rather die than give this audience another reason to belittle me.
If only they fucking knew.
I have to remind myself where I stand.
That this is for the sake of Emma…
She wouldn’t deal with this shit on my behalf.
Deciding to put myself in this situation is beginning to create a monster I never thought was inside me. A hateful being that despises all the selfless acts I’ve done for the sake of an innocent girl who will be given all the favor, praise, and love.
While I’m left humiliated, broken, and with nothing but scars from all I’ve sacrificed for her salvation.
When he pulls his cock out of my mouth, he idolizes my face and inspects every inch of it while I fight for breath. It’s as though I’m finally allowed to breathe, yet they come out shallow and quick, as if I’m afraid to even do just that.
The saltness of his semen clings to my lips, and I can’t help but lower my gaze to his cock for a brief moment. My red lipstick, despite being long-lasting, isn’t smudge-proof—the streaks of red leaving their mark along his length. Some would think of it as some sort of reward. A trophy of honor for pleasing the man who’s going to own you for who knows how long.
Until my little sister reaches eighteen.
For me, it only riles up that burning rage I enjoy throwing into every punch when I destroy punching bags to keep my sanity. I have to swallow the anger down just as quickly, knowing Domino is watching me like a hawk, but I bet he saw it.
That could be why he grips my chin tightly and forces my head up so I’m looking right into his eyes when his face is inches from mine.
“You’ve learned your lesson, Darling?” His voice is filled with nothing but mockery.I hate it. Hate him so fucking much.“Next time you enter my family home, you’ll be the dirty submissive bitch you are, yes?”
“Yes.” I don’t recognize my voice. It sounds too raspy. As if I’ve been sick for days and haven’t enjoyed a nice warm drink for weeks. “Yes, my King.”
“Good.” He’s satisfied with my answer.Maybe even surprised by it.I bet he’s wondering why it was ‘so easy’ to get me to cooperate now.
At this point, why wouldn’t I? I’m already tired of this shit.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
If my pride wasn’t so fucking huge, I’d never walk into this mansion again. It would finally remain a distant memory. Not some shithole of a place that’s filled with lifeless statues of luxury and people who only care about getting their weekly paychecks.
This place would never be deemed safe, let alone a place anyone would call home. Domino can come here all he fucking wants, but I bet he feels how heartless these massive walls and fancy rooms are.
That’s why he enjoyed bullying me all those years.
My outcry, agony, and brewing rage made him feel more alive than his only family.
Sick. They’re all fucking sick in the head.
Deep down, though, I fear the worse of it all.
That I’m just as sick as they are.
The only difference is I’ve yet to let all that madness come out to play.
“Go clean up,” he orders. “You’ve already disgraced me for the night. You can walk home for all I give. I don’t want to see your ugly, resting bitch face.”
